


eternity is only a beginning

by shogo



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: AU, Color AU, Drabbles, Fix-It, Hannibal AU, M/M, Soulmate AU, murder and stuff, tumblr asks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5620279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shogo/pseuds/shogo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>koumaki collection. each chapter is a complete story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> chapter summary here;
> 
> i. drabble, major character death  
> ii. short au where koumaki has escaped japan. cue angst  
> iii. soulmate au. where you see the world in black and white until you meet your soulmate, then after their death see the world in monochrome again. major character death  
> iv. hannibal au  
> v. drabble  
> vi. shogo week 2016 entry, prompt was 'bloom'  
> vii. drabble  
> viii. passerby au, in which kougami catches a brief glimpse of something interesting  
> ix. kougami talks to the ghost

Fingers trailed lightly over the cold, pale cheek, trembling near imperceptibly. 

The world had gone silent, the reverberating ring of the revolver still sounding throughout the field behind the now lone figure standing on the hill at the edge of the hyper oats facility. There were no other distractions, nothing reading in his ears or eyes scanning the possible threat level of others. There was nobody to blame for his actions but himself. He was the only one who could be held accountable for what'd happened here today.

He had fallen to his knees, a sad mockery of what the corpse before him had done not moments before in a sad, pitiful compliance that he wouldn't forget for years to come. The body was soaked in blood now, red staining every part of the dead man. 

White stained so easily.

Despite it all, Shinya couldn't help but marvel at how delicate the features of the dead man were. He hadn't been able to resist it; a sick, shaking part of him wanted to just _see_ what his greatest enemy had now become. Another part of him couldn't believe that this had even happened, an impossible reality. 

So Shinya had pulled the body into his arms with an almost reverant care, astutely aware that the remaining members of Division One were still in the very near vicinity. But he felt consumed with the urge to take one last look, obsessed with seeing his handiwork on this pale canvas. A smear of blood was left where his finger tips trailed, although who's blood it was Shinya couldn't quite tell anymore. He was much too focused on the eery contrast of the dark color upon the hollowed pale skin of the others face. Delicate bones in his cheekbones and forehead, full mouth and a lovely heart-shaped face. It was the tragic death of an angel, and if it were anyone but Makishima, Shinya would be terribly distressed from the sheer otherworldly beauty that'd been snuffed out.

Ripping his hand away Shinya felt the horror bubble up like a sucker punch to the gut. This morbid fascination of the corpse's beauty- _Makishima's_ beauty- was a dark path the raven was quite frankly horrified by. The sick _wrongfulness_ of it all sent Shinya's skin prickling down his spine. He was overcome with the urge to both drop the corpse and run, run far away from Japan like his original plan had been-- and also, curiously enough, to stay here.

He felt as though he'd missed something, lost something terribly important. Like he'd had his eyes closed and just let it slip through his fingers like quick sand. Noting that his breathing was quicker- shorter, Shinya forced himself to inhale deeply before slowly raising a hand to his chest to feel the rapid beating of his heart. He carefully lowered the body back to the ground, a strange feeling pulling and pressing at his chest. 

Dark gray eyes were still locked on the fallen man.

The blood was drying, the layer had been thin when Shinya smeared it. It had darkened to a lovely wine color, only to fade out to the pale of Shougo's skin where the smudged mark ended by a closed golden eye. The fingerprint was what had caught his eye. The glaringly _obvious_ shape of a thumb- _his thumb_ \- sent a cold shiver down the ex-enforcers spine. _His_ mark on the other. The tangible proof that in the end, Shinya was the one who had prevailed. Licking his wind-chapped lips, Shinya slowly allowed himself to hunch down once more to run his fingers over the cool skin in front of him. It was so smooth. No scars or freckles or tattoos or piercings. Just his thumbprint. Glaringly obvious, like spilled paint on a fresh canvas.

_His mark._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by the wonderful 'Ryookko' who breaks my heart by requesting death fics.


	2. ii

Shinya watched in silence as the pale figure next to him slides silently off the bed with the fluid, ethereal grace only they seem to possess. They move in soft footsteps to the other side of the room, nude form gleaming porcelain in the dim light of the half moon outside. They look to be contemplating on what to read, running their slim fingers along the aged spines of the limited selection on the shelf; the domestic, comfortable feel of scene was really quite ridiculous.

In fact, the whole situation was really rather absurd, if one actually bothered to really give thought to it. That this person just across from him was even corporeal. They were so otherworldly, so different with their pale skin and even lighter hair. A lean, tall form that moved with an oily sort of confidence that sent chills over your skin when you watched him. Those sharp golden eyes that could dissect you, know what you were thinking before you could even grasp the thought.

Or maybe it just seemed completely impossible, that it was Makishima Shogo sharing Shinya's bed these days, thumbing through books on the other side of the room in the dead of night.

Shinya exhaled slowly, the smoke from the cigarette in his hand swirling up into the air. The room smelled musty, potent of sex and smoke, but Shinya couldn't really bring himself to wonder if that was the their fault; or the fault of countless other patrons. Inn's had become popular with those who managed to survive in the world outside of Sybil. Chances are their homes had been either destroyed or compromised by the never ending wars that were waged.

Tilting his head back to look at the cracked and blackened ceiling, he ignored the ever burning question of _why_  that always accompanied the staunch feeling of guilt low in his stomach after these trysts between himself and the criminal across the room. Making sense of whatever this was between them, was something he had long ago given up on. It all really boiled down to the simple fact that he simply could not keep himself away from the other man. They were like moths to flames; not able to keep away even given the imminent and near certain danger of being burned. The attraction between them was alive and magnetic and very much so all consuming.

But being alone like this, cooped away from Sibyl and the bureau and the memories... it was far too easy to forget that the man gasping and panting beneath him, crying Shinya's name and tearing streaks into his back was the very same he had once sworn to kill with a vengeance.

Another long sigh. More smoke fogging the room.

The enforcer shifts his gaze to once more watch Shogo roaming across the room. Words seemed to be rarely rarely spoken between them, even though they both knew conversations between the two of them could flow endlessly. But the danger of making this all seem much more real was too imminent. It was an unspoken understanding in that words would make this- whatever _this_ was, much more than a few frenzied hours in the dark of the night. By talking, they would shatter the fragile illusion that they had carefully crafted. Words would ruin the game of make believe, the game of pretending that they didn't lust for the others blood.

Shinya's fingers twitched at the thought. It was... something he didn't like to admit that he'd still sometimes think about. Thoughts about a ring of bruises around the others slender neck, or twin slits on thin wrists.

Putting a bullet in his head.

The cold skin.

The blood.

He thought about it often.

And sometimes... it disturbed him.

(But only sometimes.)

Seeming to finally sense the pair eyes on him, Shogo lowered his book and raised his amber gaze to meet Shinya's. He cocked his head to the side, leading long strands of silver hair to spill off his shoulders and onto his pale chest. His gaze was unwavering as he strode back to the bed where Shinya was still sprawled. The book was carefully placed somewhere at the foot of the bed and quickly forgotten as Shogo slowly crawled on top of the raven. His movements were so fluid, long limbs carefully arranged as he placed himself on Shinya's lap, his golden gaze never fleeting, never blinking.

He was waiting; as he always did, for Shinya to make the first move. A brutal remainder of his cruelty. Shogo's own silent plea that Shinya would wake from the illusion, would see him the same in the outside world as he did in here.

_So selfish._

Crushing the smoldering cigarette in his palm, Shinya carelessly tossed it in the general direction of the ashtray before slowly leaning forward to bite the others bottom lip, drawing a soft sigh as Shogo slid his arms up Shinya's chest before looping themselves around Shinya's neck.

Moving his own hands to slim hips, Shinya easily took control of the kiss. Submitting to the illusion was easy. Far too easy when in actuality the illusion was carefully guarding your friend's murderer. Sliding his hands down spread thighs Shinya absently wondered how different things could've been.

A gasp escaped the man on his lap as Shinya bit down harshly on his swollen lip before lapping at the wound.. Those were some of his favorite thoughts. They were easy. It was... nice to imagine a world where Sasayama was still alive.

Calloused fingers gripped Shogo's thighs as Shinya pushed the criminal off his his lap and into the mattress. White hair spilled out and golden eyes were hooded with lust as their harsh breathing filled the room.

Even nicer to imagine a world where the only person in the world who could really understand you wasn't an absolute sociopath.

Those same hands slid up along Shogo's body to his shoulders, holding him down as Shinya captured his lips once more. His taste never changed, Shogo always tasted of too-sweet tea and even sweeter pastries. He tasted familiar and warm and the obvious inexperience and uncertainty carefully covered by brazen confidence the criminal had once displayed had long since disappeared.

Shinya hadn't even realized his hands had moved to the others throat until the others head fell back, Adam's apple moving under the raven's thumbs in automatic effort. There was no other struggle. No flailing or resistance. Shinya had long since realized this too. That in the end, there would be no fight between them.

That in the end, Shogo would gladly allow Shinya to avenge his fallen partner.

He squeezed his fingers tighter, the realization that he could end this now setting in. It was unfair though really, that even when dying the other could look so beautiful. The bright amber eyes were fluttering closed, his silver lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. Even in death, the damned monster looked like an angel fallen from grace. "In another life I could've fallen in love with you." he heard himself say softly, fingers still wrapped tightly around the others throat.

Shogo's eyes snapped open allowing Shinya to see something flicker quickly across them as he finally moved to raise his own hand up to touch Shinya's face. "That what a pity," he murmured more to himself than Shinya, smooth voice rasped and broken, "that we were born in this one."

Shinya shuddered at his words, at the awful truth of them. Slowly removing his hands from Shogo's throat, he found himself morbidly fascinated by the marks left behind, although not at all surprised by them. Shogo's skin had always marred so easily it wasn't at all shocking to see distinct marks already forming on the porcelain throat. Shinya did however, feel an uncharacteristic pang of guilt this time around. But even that didn't seem quite right, that even after everything, all they chaos and pain this monster had caused countless people, Shinya could still find it within him to feel bad for hurting the silverette. It was laughable, especially considering the loaded gun in the Enforcers coat pocket across the room.

Shinya slowly raised a hand to Shogo's cheek, running his index finger gently over the sharp cheekbone. A pause. Then a slight tilt of his head before slowly lowering his lips to brush over the bruises he had left. A sharp gasp sounded below him as Shogo flinched violently, hands immediately flying to the Enforcer's shoulders. They didn't push him away, but hovered as if uncertain what to do.

That was cruel too, after all. Tenderness did not exist between them. They weren't in a relationship, weren't lovers. The attraction was very much real, but even that didn't equal to much, and especially not to the novelesque idea of lovemaking. Every kiss between them was a crude mockery of the action. A gnashing of lips and tongue and teeth with none of the finesse Shinya had once come to acquire through past conquests. There was no murmured words of promises or praise, no caresses. Despite these facts, Shinya had quickly discovered the others craving for attention and affection.

And he always had been one to pick at wounds.

Slowly trailing his lips down collarbones that were much too sharp, Shinya grabbed a fistful of silver hair before claiming Shogo's lips once more. They clashed- like always- teeth clacking and tongues twisting as the raven ground his rapidly hardening arousal against the man's below him.

Sad, that in this life it was all just too easy.

 


	3. iii

Shinya is only twenty when he joins the MWPSB task force right out of school and his world is most definitely, certainly grey. This, he's been told, is not uncommon occurrence. Attachments- or soulmates- are simply unnecessary. Merely another reason you'd hesitate before running into a hostage situation or be unwilling to take on extra hours at the office. And in this profession, the job is always meant to come first. And so for this reason, the Inspectors see in grey and never say a word about it otherwise.

"Color," Sasayama told him once, slinging an arm around Shinya's shoulder and leaning far too heavily against him, his words slurred and near incoherent from far too much to drink, "is impractical."

He then proceeds to double over and empty his stomach's contents onto Shinya's shoes and any response Shinya may have had to this are all but forgotten as he instead elects to fume at his drunken college's recklessness. Sasayama, Shinya learns much much later, had lost his soul mate a mere two months after finding her. She had been on her way too meet him when a mugging-gone-wrong ends her life, simply because the street thug had possessed a twitchy trigger finger.

But the Shinya who is twenty and naïve and most definitely sees the world in grey naïvely finds himself far more concerned with the grey vomit adorning his shiny grey shoes.

 

 

Shinya had been twelve when he and the other boys from class 2-A were herded into the library. This was accompanied, of course, by snorts and giggles as those with older sibling began noisily whispering about the notorious upcoming powerpoint on the wonders of being an adolescent boy. He can already see Gino red faced and mortified, shrinking into his seat from embarrassment and tries his best to stifle any laughter from his very sensitive friend seated just to the left to him.

It's everything you'd have expected and worse, and Shinya himself is finding it difficult not to join the ranks of howling and snickering prepubescent boys when the teacher finally begins to talk about the colors.

"Your eyes are green." The instructor says to Gino. Ginoza, of course, makes a rather undignified squeak as the rooms suddenly quiets to turn undivided attention is suddenly on him. To the other boys, Gino's eyes had never been anything other than the common grey hue the rest of the world appeared as. "To give all of you a better picture," the instructor pauses. "if green were a feeling it'd be the cool of a river stone. If it were a smell, it'd be the burning of wood that's floating atop the ocean. If it were a sound it'd be the last thing you hear before you fall asleep."

The class is stirring now and shushing and murmuring to each other. They are excited and young and miss the solemn tone of the teachers next words. Shinya however, will remember these words for the entirety of his unknowingly somber life. The color leaves, the teacher had insisted, if your soulmate dies. Then your world will be condemned grey once more.

Shinya blinks and casts a glance at his friend; who's face is pinched and eyes are wide although most certainly and undeniably grey, and promises himself that when he meets his soulmate, he'll never let her live in a grey world for a second time.

 

 

Shinya is fifteen and on the cusp of becoming a man when he finds himself desperately hoping that that 'she' will in fact be a 'he'.

"Do you think it'd even be worth it? To see colors, I mean." The boy Shinya's been seeing casually for about a month asks him. They're slouched up against the school wall lazily passing a cigarette between them. His name is Haku, he has short grey hair and wide set grey eyes. He's a nice enough young man, Shinya supposes. Clever although not particularly exceptional, honest and easy going. Shinya would guess he might go on one day to become successful in the way that people like him become, the people that fit easily into whatever slot Sybil deems appropriate. 

Shinya lets out a long, slow exhale of smoke before tilting his head to look up at the clear grey of the sky. "Who knows?" he responds. Sybil, after all, can pair you with someone. With all of her logic and limitless knowledge of her citizens, surely she can find someone as good for you as your so-called soulmate.

Years later Shinya happens across a woman at the scene of a robbery. A teller had been shot dead after jumping in front of a coworker-- the robbers escaping into the dead of night. She's sobbing behind the caution tape, unkempt and wild with the look of one who's lost the world. Her hands cover her eyes and she's babbling to see the body of the man Shinya'd not even thought of in years. He holds her hand later as she gives him a watery, broken smile and absently rubs her rounded stomach.

She leaves soon enough for home and Shinya finds himself wondering if Haku had ever answered his own question.

 

 

Shinya is twenty five when for the first time, he is grateful that he can only see grey.

His collegeassociate _friend_ is part of a sickening absolutely grotesque display right in front of him and Shinya feels that vomit is probably not a very appealing color. He had seen the man only hour before, talked to him and laughed with him. They had made plans the next day for lunch at Sasayama's favorite bar in Shinjuku. A knot of disbelief and dispair curls itself tightly low in his gut as he drops to his knees. This, he realizes, is what it's like to lose somebody.

When he's later called to take a look at Sasayama's dominator terminal, only to see a blurry picture of a very grey man, he prays for 'Makishima's' soulmate as he vows to condemn them to a world of grey.

 

 

Shinya is twenty eight when he meets the new inspector that's finally come along to take his old place. She has decidedly grey eyes and grey hair, but she's kind and eager to learn, (despite a small hiccup on their first job together), and he finds himself thinking that she'll go on to be a great Inspector one day.

He very nearly drops his cigarette on his report papers when she tells him he has a very pretty shade of blue in his eyes.

She backtracks quickly when she sees his shock. It's a taboo, after all, to so casually mention color to someone who can't see it. Like mentioning an inside joke to an outsider. He casually shrugs off her apologies and swiftly changes the subject to spare here, but not before catching Ginoza in the corner of his eye rather carefully arranging the items on his desk in a very specific spectrum of grey.

Shinya would bet a months worth of cigarettes that when Gino looks into the mirror he sees green peering right back at him.

 

 

He is still twenty eight and lying on the cold ground of an abandoned train system, bleeding out onto the concrete from a gunshot to his side when he finally sees color for the very first time.

It's most definitely not yellow or blonde he sees, but rather a pair of brilliantly golden eyes. They look almost as shocked as he feels, and before Shinya's world blurs and fades to black he feels his heart freeze and drop low in his stomach as he finds himself possessing the unwanted knowledge that Shogo Makishima's eyes are an absolutely lovely shade of gold.

 

 

When he's home and at last by himself after hours of tests and bandages and uncomfortable but sympathetic glances, Shinya stares blankly at the beige of his rooms ceiling and allows himself to mourn.

 

 

He can see the dark crimson of his own blood on his skin but he finds himself far more distracted by the pale pink of Makishima's lips.

He can see the deep purple of the bruises littering his arms, and knows he's far too tired to continue this battle. He must be, when all he can find himself thinking is how much he'd like to see these colors inflicted onto Makishima's own porcelain skin. Darkened fingerprints around his neck or crimson cuts from binds meant to hold him in place. He'd underestimated his enemy, everything about the other from the silver of his hair to the curve of his lips.

He's eventually greeted by darkness once more, his body weary and lethargic, and can feel more than see the edges of his vision fading once more to black, yet he can only concentrate on the pale but somehow colorful appearance of the man standing above him with a razor in his hand.

He then finds himself shaking, breath uneven as Akane unexpectedly comes to his rescue. He tells her in a voice he barely recognizes to kill him- to end it all now, to avenge the friend she's lost- but as she looks down at him, solemn and teary eyed he knows that she's come to figure it out.

That only a monster would take the colors away from someone.

 

 

Shinya's surrounded by an endless field gold and he feels that Makishima must've somehow done this to him on purpose.

He feels the cool weight of the revolver in his hand and stares at the broken figure in front of him. They're all white but somehow so much more, but the red adorning the slim figure is far too much and they both know it. It's not nearly as pretty as Shinya had imagined it would be adorning the man in front of him.

The reds and golds and pinks slowly fade from the sky as he raises the gun that suddenly seems far heavier than it was before.

Then from the world altogether as he pulls the trigger.

The world is once more painted greygrey _grey_ , dull and cold and impossibly empty but at least his promise to Makishima's soulmate had held true to the bitter end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dedicated to mothat


	4. iv

A pale, calloused hand reached up to knock rather forcefully at the old oak door. The visitor's face was difficult to discern in the dark night, the streetlamps too dim and foggy to be helpful, but his shape could still be made out. He was rather tall, built and broad with slouched posture reflecting his fatigue.

Shinya waited patiently outside in the bitter December cold wrapped in a coat and scarf designed more for looks than for actual warmth. A rather anxious air surrounded him as he awaited the houses' occupant to greet him. The lights were still on in this house, the only one lit up on the street, and Shinya knew the owner well enough to know that it was doubtful they'd be asleep anyway.

His suspicions were proven correct as a slender figure appeared in the doorway, their snow white hair lit like a halo from the glow inside. Makishima Shogo stood just beyond the entrance to his home, an amused expression on his face at the sight of Shinya. "You're rather late, Inspector. I'm afraid there'll be no candlelight dinners catering at this hour."

Shinya snorted, his lips quirking up as he stepped forward to shoulder brusquely past the other man and out of the cold. "Well in that case, I'm afraid I'll have to take a rain check." He replied bemusedly. The anxiety all at once seemed to evaporate; the pale psychiatrist once again proving his absolute ability to distract him at absolutely everything. "I needed to talk to you."

"And it just _had_ to be at two in the morning?"

"Be quiet and listen." Shinya replies shortly sending a sideways glance at the other man. "This is important."

Shogo settles against the doorframe with a bemused smile quirking his lips. "Well don't keep me in the dark here. What is it?"

Shinya hesitates and turns to face Shogo before stopping dead in his tracks. The psychiatrist's head was tilted just slightly to one side; silver hair spilling off his shoulder. Polished golden eyes were inquisitive and expectant and Shinya's never never been a believer in romantic cliches but he's damn sure that there's more than just a few butterflies fluttering in his gut. "We've made a mistake."

"Ah." Shogo nods, wrapping his cardigan around himself. "In the case? The bureau's been working it for months."

Shinya nods, hesitating again. His heart was thrumming, the adrenaline that had compelled him to rush over here in the first place running thick under his skin. "Remember how I kept saying something was missing? That something was all off?"

There is definitely confusion reflecting in Shogo's face now. "Shinya, how--"

"Just--" Shinya steps closer and places his hands on the slim shoulders, ignoring how lovely those sinewy muscles and bird-thin bones would be under the woolen cardigan. "Please listen to me."

Shogo goes silent this time, gaze attentive. He's frowning now, pale lips downturned.

There's another pause before the Inspector releases a shaky breath, butterflies sinking and twisting heavily in his stomach. "The fact that we've been we've been on this case for so long is the problem. We’ve developed tunnel vision. We haven’t looked at anybody people in a different criteria. Because you see, our guy definitely isn't just collecting body parts, or setting them aside for some sick trophy collection.." Shinya hesitates, licking his lips. He didn't want to sound hysterical, didn't want Shogo to immediately discredit everything he'd been saying as the ravings of a work stressed madman. 

"Shogo, he's eating them."

Shogo stares at him, eyes widening slightly. After a long silence broken only by the chiming of the clock on the hour, he offers a small smile at Shinya before carefully moving out from Shinya's hands. "I'll go get some tea, let's continue this in the drawing room, hm?" He turns and disappears of into the direction of the kitchen, out of Shinya's line of sight.

Shinya feels a breathy laugh of relief escape his lips almost as soon as the other man disappears and brings his hands up to his face to rub at his tired eyes. It had just seemed so so important, with the realization striking like a thunderbolt. They’d just been on the case for so long, endless hours and long nights always leading to nowhere. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to lie down without the crime scene pictures floating into his vision. Now it all seemed rather ridiculous, Rushing away from his mother's house in the middle of the night to come harass the bureau’s top crime consultant and a man he's only just known for a scarce few months. 

How to Woo a Man 101, he thought bemusedly, letting his hands slide from his face as he turned to move into the other room. Show up on their doorstep just past midnight to rant wild theories on how the area’s most brutal serial killer was most definitely a cannibal. Shogo probably thinks him mad. 

The drawing room is spacious and cosy, a large hearth on the far wall surrounded by deep red armchairs, a love seat and a small glass coffee table. The lighting is dim, with the hearth and a few lit candles as the room’s only source of light and the illuminated dance off the panes of the large bay window. An assortment of books and papers litter the large bookcases and whatever space isn't occupied by classical literature is covered with small knick-knacks. The rooms smells of warmth and candles and the slightly musty scent of old paper. Overall it gives an almost antiquated cozy feel which Shinya feels Shogo was quite deliberately going for. 

He had just taken off his coat when Shogo comes back and moves further into the room to set the tea tray on the table. He turns back to Shinya before raising a brow and gesturing towards the couch. "Well, shall we?"

Shinya shakes his head and moves to sit in the offered spot. "How much is this going to cost?" He remarks dryly.

A small smirk. "Just this once it's free of charge." He hands Shinya a cup and bats his lashes before leaning against the arm of the love seat. "But just this once however, I wouldn't want anybody to think I was playing favorites. That’d be quite unprofessional."

Shinya’s gaze darkens as the other man speaks, following his movements carefully. He remembered those countless times he'd just _fantasized_ about that demure gaze fixed on him, full lips stretched around his cock and lashes lowered. Jesus, he knew this was a fucking mistake coming over here after having a few glasses of wine at his mother's place. 

"The case, Shogo." He manages, with no small amount of difficulty.

Shogo smirks, almost knowingly-- although he couldn't possible...--and hums while sipping thoughtfully at his own tea. A beige, warm looking cardigan is draped over his shoulders with white tapered trousers accentuating his slim legs. The silverette crosses his legs, revealing bare feet to make the image suddenly incredibly domestic looking. Shinya watches the other man think, tracing the sharp line of Shogo’s jaw and the long pale line of his throat. He was ethereal in every sense of the word, and he remembered his despair when Ginoza had long ago berated him against ‘office relations’. _Maybe when the case is over_ , he mused,  nearly missing Shogo's next words.

"It's not improbable I suppose,” the pale man starts, “but I suppose my question is; how on earth would you come to this conclusion, of all things.." A raised brow and a sidelong glance were cast his way. "Cannibalism is a rather unique profile after all."

Shinya sets the cup down and thinks carefully over his explanation. He’s long since learned to trust his instincts, but explaining the how’s and why’s had always proven to be his downfall. "Yes, but then again our perp has proven themselves to be pretty unique. And besides, very specific parts had been taken from the victims. Like the tongue from Miyuki Funnehara, or the liver from Tomoe Matsouka, the thymus from Ren Asahara. What kind of killer takes just one thing like that? They don't sell near as much as some of other organs that are left behind on the black market, and they spoil quicker, making terrible trophies. No. Our guy... All of these parts are types of meat used in cooking."

"Our profile doesn't even look at chefs." Shogo says consideringly. 

"Exactly. That's another thing. Why are we only looking at one specific group of people? People with grudges and anatomy backgrounds? Given the preciseness of the cuts, I would say maybe a doctor or even a med school graduate."

 Shogo tilts his head back and gives him a slow, small smile. "Or maybe even a very dexterous person with a working knowledge of google."

Shinya feels the hairs on the back of his neck start to rise, but he ignores it and returns the smile. "That too, I suppose. Although that would add quite a number to our suspect list."

A soft laugh from the psychiatrist as he too places his cup on the table and tucks his knee up into his chest, resting his chin on top. He’s silent for a moment, staring into the fire as he asks, "You still haven't told me how exactly you've arrived at this conclusion." Another laugh as he tilts his face towards Shinya, eyes impossibly bright. "Or why you just had to tell me at one in the morning."

Shinya huffs and ignores the dig. "I was visiting my mother. We were in the kitchen carving the chicken for dinner when she started telling me, 'These are the oysters. They're called the 'chef's reward' because they're the best part of the dish.'" Shinya sighs and rubs at his face. "Immediately I remembered the first victim-- Yuki Funehara. How the cuts on her back precisely matched those of a chicken carved for the oysters. Then how the second victim was missing his thymus-- sweetbread. And how the bigger man, victim number three was was missing his liver. Foie gras. The list goes on, they all check out."

He looks at Shogo, who seems to be considering him. Golden eyes are jaded and narrowed and for a second...

For just a second Shinya almost has it.

Then Shogo leans in and presses his lips to Shinya's.

Shogo's lips are soft and warm and it's over far too quickly as he pulls back to gauge Shinya's reaction. "What's going through your head right now?" He murmured softly, licking at his lips.

Shinya raises a hand up to tangle in long silver hair. He runs his thumb over Shogo’s jaw before sliding his fingers to the back of the albino's neck. Shogo leans into the touch, eyes watching and lashes fluttering as Shinya leans in once more. "You." He murmurs before capturing his lips once more.

 Shogo makes a soft sound and wraps his arms up around Shinya's neck, fingers threading through the short hairs on the back of Shinya’s neck. Their kisses are fast and open mouthed. They're messy and sloppy and most crossing the 'unprofessional' line, as Shogo had so eloquently put it. Then Shinya reaches his free hand up and tilts Shogo's head to the side- just slightly- to slip his tongue into Shogo's mouth, hot and wet.

Their mouths slot together just like they were meant to and Shogo makes a needy whine in his throat as Shinya suddenly breaks away to lick warm lines down the albino's jaw and neck, pulling his head back further by the hair to expose more of the pale column. Shogo gasps and pushes him away only to pull himself up on top of Shinya.

Their lips meet again and Shogo lets out a breathless chuckle. "Just so you know, this is the last direction I expected this night to take."

Shinya grins back against Shogo’s lips and hums in response before leaning up to bite at his swollen bottom lip. They kiss once more, tongues sliding against one another between their mouths. It’s impossibly obscene sounding in the soft quiet lull of the room. Each gasp and moan piercing through the silence. When Shinya finally pulls back he slowly raises his head and meets the golden gaze of the albino. He's elevated just slightly higher than Shinya, straddling the raven's left leg and leaning on Shinya’s broad shoulders. His eyes are still impossible darkened. The light of the fire is flickering through them, casting odd shadows across the planes of his face. It's almost... eery looking.

And that's when it hits him.

The dinner Shogo had served the entire investigation team as a celebration for the long-awaited conviction of a serial rapist. The dinner served not long after the murder of the victim number one.

Pork tongue, he’d said.

The horror is absolutely paralyzing. Shinya feels his heart thud to a stop in his chest as he immediately reacts to the presence of a predator in this room on his lap for Christ's sake. He moves faster than he thought he ever could to fling the albino off of him and attack but the other’s seen this coming. Knew the moment Shinya had knocked on his door and suggested his seemingly outlandish theory. The psychiatrist springs off of him and out of Shinya's reach. The raven moves to grab him and knocks the tea cups off the table in his rush. They clash to the floor and shatter into pieces as Shinya grabs a fistful of Shogo's shirt.

His heart's racing and yet somehow he's never felt this calm in his life despite everything. He knows now that Shogo is the Chesapeake Ripper. The news is more numbing than shocking, really. The albino was definitely eccentric- and at times extremely unnerving. He was the only person Shinya knew who could've had access to all of the materials he'd need to forge evidence when they would meet to discuss the case.

Shinya been played like a fool from the moment he’d met him.

He's pulling the psychiatrist closer to him as he reaches for his gun from his holster when things go terribly, awfully wrong.

Shogo twists from his grip with a sharp jab of his palm to Shinya's sternum. And before Shinya can right himself, a sharp pain is suddenly jolts up his spine. It feels like a sudden opening in his gut has appeared, and it's accompanied by the strangest feeling that his stomach is leaking out. He feels himself stumbling forward as he stares blankly at the straight razor sticking out from his body. 

Shinya's weight is toppling forward, and Shogo leans up to push him back. "Shh." He murmurs into Shinya's ear. "You're in shock. It will be over quickly enough and I don't want to hurt you anymore than this."

Shinya tries to respond, but all that comes up is a wet sounding gurgle. He weakly reaches up to push Shogo away but Shogo easily bats his hands away. Then the gold flickers and there's a sick sound of flesh popping and ripping as the razor is twisted in its place. Shinya is pushed down onto the ground where Shogo once more takes his place atop the Inspector, draping himself on his waist this time to continue humming softly into Shinya's ear.

Everything feels dull and muted and impossibly slow. The crackling of the fire is so far away, and even further is Shinya's cell phone resting in his coat pocket across the room. The evening had certainly taken a turn for the worse, Shinya found himself thinking grimly.

"You're remarkable," Shinya Kogami." Shogo suddenly murmurs, the soft breath ghosting over the shell of Shinya’s ear. "You're the only one I know I'll regret."

The Inspector’s attention instantly snaps to back him and a spark of defiance flares up. For the Chesapeake Ripper to best him too, it simply couldn't be allowed. He’d long ago vowed to put this man in a padded cell.

"I think..." Shogo continued softly, brushing his lips against Shinya's jaw and nipping at the soft skin underneath.  "I think that I'll eat your heart."

The words sends a cold shiver down the raven's spine as he summons the strength of a dying man to club the butt of his gun against Shogo's head as hard as he could muster. The albino reels back, shock painting his expression as Shinya grits his teeth and raises the gun to the other man's face.

As he pulls the trigger, he sees a wide grin split the Chesapeake Ripper’s face before everything goes black.

 

  

"You really do understand me, Shinya." The criminal teases. They lazily flip through the pages of an old book before sparing a coy glance at the stone faced ex-Inspector. "And I do so enjoy our little chats."

The raven turns sharply on his heels and stalks back down the asylum’s whitewashed hallway. He feels the old scar running across his stomach burn in vivid memory, and hears Akane squeak in alarm, her footsteps quick as she rushes to catch up to him.  
  
And as the door to the section ward seals behind him, he hears the Ripper teasingly call after him, "I'll be looking forward to our second date, Inspector!"


	5. v

“Ah, I see.” Shogo murmurs softly, almost sympathetically as his fingers run along the line of Shinya’s jaw in a gesture that’s far too close to that of a lovers. “You’ve already fallen.”

Shinya closes his eyes, the familiar pang of pain and disappointment curling up from his gut and into his ribcage. Knowing the truth in the silence of your own mind was one thing, but hearing the words being spoken left no more doubt for one to cling to.

“I’m only human.” He settles for, his voice sounding unfamiliar even to his own ears.

Shogo hms softly and moves his touch to the highest part of Shinya’s cheekbones until he finally recaptures the ex-Enforcer’s gaze.

“And I’m not.” He responds, his voice containing a note of finality.

“No.” Shinya agrees, leaning forward to press his lips to the other mans in a way that seems far too close to a goodbye.

“No, you’re not.”


	6. vi

The midday sun caught brilliantly on the flowers slim petals. It created a very eye-catching display, the light catching on the vibrant red of the blossom only to shine in a translucent crimson. The delicate bloom itself seemed to reach upwards towards the sky, hoping for more light to swallow. Hundreds, if not thousands of these flowers littered the path to one of Kamakura’s many, many public libraries.

 

Shogo stood at the end of the path, gazing down at the display.

He wasn’t in a particular hurry, as he was rather early after all, and as everything in the town itself seemed to move in eternal slow motion when compared to the constant action and bustling movement of Japan’s larger cities. He’d noticed the flowers before, as he had every spring before. They were rather difficult to miss; a unique, spindly shape rising from a tall stalk. Not to mention the absolutely captivating shade of red they took on. He had always found them rather interesting, but had often found himself idly wondering why the libraries gardening staff never simply uprooted the flowers as they easily invaded the otherwise meticulously groomed lawn.

 

He sighed, looked down to the book in his hands, turning it over to glance over the indented title. The cover worn smooth, threads fraying around the edges and the binding alarmingly week. He thumbed through the pages, faint smile touching his lips. Nothing really matched the nostalgia of a well-loved book. So much personality was conveyed through the subtle aging, nothing like the cold, sleek touch of a digitized novel held beneath a glass screen.

 

“Why is it,” Shinya starts wryly, stopping at Shogo’s side, “that whenever I catch you smiling, the cause is almost always a dusty old book?”

 

Shogo quirks an eyebrow at him but allows the small curve of his lips to widen. “I'm afraid that that's a bit like the kettle calling the pot black, Shinya.”

 

The raven snorts, relenting, and starts unhurriedly down along the sidewalk to the library door. He throws a casual look at the red flowers along the way, stuffing his hands deep into his jacket pockets. “They’re spider lilies.” He says offhandedly, dark eyes flickering over to glance at Shogo. At the albino’s questioning gaze, he shrugs nonchalantly before looking ahead again. “I saw you looking at them as I came up.”

 

“They’re interesting to look at.” Shogo muses, “But I much prefer the lore and legends surrounding them instead. Flowers will always fade and die, but the stories always last.”  
“I wouldn’t ever have taken you for a floriologist.”

 

Shogo slows to a stop and clicks his tongue. “I personally prefer the term cryptology.”  
Shinya shakes his head and stops next to him, teeth flashing. “Masculinity is a delicate thing, right?” A flat, unamused look is shot his way and Shinya chuckles.

“Whatever label you like, it all means the same to me.” He tries lightly, his smile fading as his gaze slides once more to the flowers. “They don’t much have a very cheerful story to tell.”

 

Shogo hums, following his gaze. “No?”

 

“They’re the flowers of death, of loss. I’m a little surprised you’ve never seen them at funerals before.”

 

“I don’t exactly make it a habit to attend funerals. I’m not really a fan of crocodile tears.”

 

Shinya gives him a look. “You’re always so cheerful.” He deadpans.

 

Shogo shrugs apologetically but smiles in a way that tells Shinya that the albino is anything but. “Call it one of the charm of my character.”

 

Shinya rolls his eyes and hms, taking another glance at the libraries door. “So are we-”

 

“I heard, once, a long time ago, that seeing spider lilies in bloom with someone else meant that the two of you were doomed never to meet again, in this life and in the next.” Shogo says, an odd tone entering his voice. His eyes are fixed on the blooms, his thumb worrying over the frayed cover of the book in his hands.

 

“Is that so?” Shinya questions slowly, pulling a hand from his pocket to scratch at his cheek. “Well… then to be honest, I’ve never really believed in any of those sorts of things.” His gaze flickers to look at the other, tracing along the albino’s sharp features. “And stuff like that, with fate… I personally don’t like thinking about something out there dictating the things that I do and say.”

 

Shogo finally looks back to him at that, the soft smile gracing his lips letting Shinya know that the moment has passed. They start back towards the door, finally it seems, a comfortable silence enveloping the two of them.

As Shinya moves to pull the door open however, he pauses, hand sliding over the smooth metal of the handle before feeling the need to add one more thing before the conversation is lost.

“I wouldn’t let you get away from me like that either,” he says lowly, carefully, as if his words could spook the other away far away and out of his reach. He raises his eyes to meet Shogo’s. “And I’ll always find you, in this life and in whatever comes after.”

 

Shogo twitches, a genuine slip in his facade as something soft flickers through his eyes, gone almost too quickly for Shinya to catch it. As the sun disappears behind the clouds, Shinya pulls open the door to the library, the cool air enveloping them as the two take the first steps together.


	7. vii

“Do you think anything’s changed?” 

Shinya leaned further back into his chair as he pondered the question. He closes the novel in his hands, carefully setting it on the end table.

“No.” He said finally. “And I can’t imagine it ever will.” He glanced at the other.

Golden eyes are watching him, calm and thoughtful. “But then, it wouldn’t really matter, would it?”

The ghost looked at him for a long while before slowly turning back to the window. “No,” they said softly. “Not anymore.”


	8. viii

There were hundreds of people down below.

They dotted the streets with colors, ranging from dark monochromes to bright primaries. Moving at different speeds as they all traveled towards their given destinations for the busy weekday.

Shinya slowly exhaled, gray smoke blowing out softly through his nostrils. The cigarette hung loosely from his mouth, the embers glowing gently.

From where he stood on the glass balcony, he had a perfect street view of the foot traffic below. Sasayama had insisted that they all go out to eat at one of the many traditional ramen houses located within the Shinjuku district. ‘All’ meaning himself, Shinya, and Ginoza after learning through an innocent conversation that Ginoza had never before tried ‘real’ yakitori as he insisted. After hours of needling and whining his efforts had finally bore fruit it seemed.

Shinya breathed out again, this time sighing heavily as he shifted his weight onto the other foot. He was hunched over one of the balconies overlooking the street. It felt strange. To be so off guard about everything, especially now of all times.

A few weeks ago a missing persons report had been filed. A few days ago, their body had been found. In a terrible, horribly grotesque form of satirical humor. It had been a politician, so media coverage had been limited to the basics, but Kougami was on edge about the whole thing. It had bothered him more than he’d like to let on, and it seemed to him that he was the only one in the entire department that seemed to be taking this case seriously.

_We’ll catch ‘em eventually._

_We always do._

_Don’t worry too much about it, it’s figure itself out._

Stop stressing so much, it’s not good for your hue, you know. Whatever the reason was, it was already the regular cause of Shinya’s now daily migraines. He genuinely hoped the rest of the division was right, that this wasn’t going to be as big of a deal as he was making it, but still. Until they had a solid lead on this guy Shinya sure as hell wasn’t going to be getting a full night’s rest any time soon.

He turns to glance at Sasayama and Ginoza as he hears them approach the table just behind him. They’re bickering, as per usual, fond but playful, like a couple of brothers reluctantly agreeing on something. He feels the corner of his lip twitch upwards, shaking his head.

_“Pretty good right? What’d I tell you?”_

_“Don’t be getting ideas. I’m still not going to be taking regular suggestions from you”_

_“Ahh so cold…”_

Shinya’s just preparing to turn around and join them when a single figure in the crowd captures his full and complete attention. He’d intrigued immediately, watching them carefully as they slowly weave through the crowd nearly directly below his balcony. It’s a man, he notes. But they somehow don’t belong among the rest of the people. It’s that distinctly alien quality that quite literally makes Shinya stop and take careful notice.

He really was a lovely man. Snow white hair and delicate bones. He’s lean, tall from what Shinya can tell, and moves with a strange, oily grace that just comes across as impossibly liquid.

The other people throng around him, countless numbers of random, forgettable faces. Shinya can’t quite comprehend why nobody else seems to even notice him, especially when they’re at so much of a closer range.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Shinya starts, flinching as Sasayama is suddenly at his side and sweeping his gaze over the crowds below. He seems earnest, curious, but Shinya feels a strange reluctance to point out the man to his friend. Almost like it’s a secret that he wants to keep, no matter how strange it is. He clears his throat and leans back a bit, eyes following the man down below until he rounds the corner out of sight.

“Just saw something interesting.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Why?” Shinya asked, desperation beginning to creep into the fringes of his voice. It wasn’t fair, not after everything, not after all this time, not after what _he’d_ done— 

“Why?” He asked again, and this time it’s broken. He’s done pretending that these… _things_ don’t affect him in ways he can’t even begin to describe. Whether they’re hallucinations, visions, or even ghosts. He can no longer pretend that he can tell the difference anymore.

Shogo stares back at him, face as impassive and smooth as it always is. Contempt gleams in those golden eyes and that sharp smile is curving at the albino’s lips. 

If he was nothing more than a hallucination, Shinya hated himself for remembering the man as the way he was. Hated that he still felt that pull of pure physical attraction in his stomach even though disgust sat heavy on his tongue. 

“Because you need me.” Shogo says simply, as if he’s stating the obvious. Which isn’t untrue, Shinya knows this, even if it does nothing but feed that terrible, yawning pit of self loathing and distaste that’d been devouring him ever since he left the people he’d come to call family behind in a country that had blinded itself.

“I don’t.” He says, but he can hear the weariness in his voice. It’s a battle he’s fought with himself for too long now, he’d exhausted all of his arguments long ago and the prosecution still continues to speak.

Shogo gives him a look that’s somewhere between disdain and pity before casting a surveying look around the loft that Shinya had claimed a few weeks back. 

He was leaving soon. What little he was taking with him was already packed, and everything else had been discarded carefully. The run in with Division One had set him on edge; part of him yearning to return home, while the rest of him steeled to move onwards in this war against Sibyl. 

It was becoming more and more difficult, he’d realized, to discern himself and his actions from who Shogo had been. The lines were all blurring together, becoming a haze that wouldn’t clear until the dead of night when he woke with a burning in his chest and cold sweat on his skin. The realization at what he’d just done, how _similar_ it was to what Shogo had once done. 

And all the while, the fallen angel himself stood nearby with approval in his eyes and praise on his lips.

“I don’t regret killing you.” He suddenly says, resolute and harsh. “I’d do it again. Every single time, I don’t regret it.”

“I know.” Shogo tells him, in that same, easy tone. 

Shinya grits his teeth, scrubbing his hand over his face in a harsh motion. It never got any easier. This Shogo seemed intent on making everything conversation as drawn out and as difficult as possible. 

If Shinya was a religious person, he’d believe that this was his purgatory. Eternity with the person he’d once killed as his sole companion. 

“Have I gone insane?” Shinya finally asks, looking over to the albino. It wasn’t fair. The way that Shogo seemed so unperturbed by the world around him, even if it wasn’t really in the same way that it was to Shinya. If Shogo were really here, there’d be a curl on his lips as he looked out at what Sibyl had done to the SEAun. 

Shogo’s lip twitches and he settles against the only window in the room before looking down at Shinya where he sat on the ground a few feet away. “Am I really who you want to answer that?”

“Do you see anyone else around?”

Shogo laughs, and Shinya thinks about that sound for a long time. He wonders what Shogo really would’ve sounded like when he laughed, if this Shogo really wasn’t anything more than a vision created by a tainted mind. 

“So you see me as real now?” Shogo asks, continuing to avoid the question.

Shinya considers that. “I don’t know.” He eventually says. And that was the truth, he’d never believed in ghosts but he also didn’t like the implications of seeing and conversing with hallucinations.

Shogo watches him, golden irises gleaming. He looked so otherworldly in the light from the window, framed in white and the sun a bright halo above his head. In another life maybe he’d been something more than what he’d been in this one.

Maybe in another life _they’d_ been something more than they were in this one.

“I think you’re alright.” Shogo says after a pause. “Lost maybe, but sane nonetheless.”

“Lost.” Shinya repeats, trying out the word. It fits, placing a neat, tidy label on those conflicting and swirling feelings that seeing Akane had stirred up. The memories of that bright-eyed girl with strong morals and a good heart. He remembers that sad look she’d cast him, and that blank gaze Ginoza had given him as he walked away. 

They didn’t recognize him anymore, and Shinya didn’t blame them. He didn’t know who he was anymore, hadn’t for some time now. 

He wondered if he ever really had.


	10. x

“This is bullshit.” Shinya complained, plopping down at the table in the seat across from Shogo. His fingers immediately began drumming at the polished surface and Shogo inwardly smirked at the other man’s grief.

“Yes, poor you.” Shogo responded calmly, uncapping his pen to begin marking off grammatical errors and inaccuracies in the paper he was currently reading. “Though I don’t see a stack of moody college students mid term papers on _your_ lap.”

“It’s a Friday night.” Shinya insisted, continuing to press his point.

“Acute observation.” Shogo remarked dryly, scrawling his feedback onto the paper in front of him. “I can really see why you went into a field that requires deductive reasoning.”

He can literally _hear_ Shinya scowling at him from across the table and can see in his minds eye the sullen pout and crossed arms the other man subconsciously performs when upset. There was a long silence that stretched between them then, and Shogo finally broke to look up and see Shinya looking remarkably fascinated with the window view of their apartment and a dark flush just over the tops of his cheekbones. “I just really wanted to spend tonight with you.” He muttered finally, head ducking a bit.

Shogo raised a hand to cover his mouth, suddenly hyperaware of the heat in his own cheeks and the too-fond smile that curled his lips. Really, this kind of brutal honesty was the worst. “…I see.”

Shinya’s eyes flickered up to look at him and Shogo could see the attempt to compose himself written all over the other man’s face. “Yeah.” Shinya answered eloquently, coughing a bit. His hands twitched on the table and oh no no—! Shogo knew what that meant; Shinya was seconds away from attempting to make a break for it where he could stew in mortification for the entirety of the time it took to smoke a pack of Spinel’s.

“I suppose…” Shogo started slowly, attempting to remain cool and calm even though his heart was thrumming with fondness and his lips were unable to cease their happy little smile. He meticulously capped the pen and set it to the side, “…I suppose that I could finish this tomorrow.”

Shinya’s bright smile was flashed at him then and Shogo couldn’t possibly help but to mirror it with one of his own. And as the other man reached out to take Shogo’s hand into his own, a soft kind of expression on his face, it was quickly determined that yes, the papers would be just fine waiting until the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maripoja @ tumblr


	11. xi

“I love you.” He murmured softly, desperation creeping into the edges of his tone. 

Golden eyes stared at him intently, sorrow and something akin to regret lurking within the irises.

Shiny swallowed and took his hands carefully. Cautiously.  
  
“That’s not something you’re capable of.” He said mechanically, the words dry and practiced. 

This whole thing was wrong, so so wrong. He swallowed again, his throat tight and constricted. There was an unfamiliar pressure behind his eyes, and it took that old reserve of strength to keep himself from giving into the tears.  
  
It was so unfair.  
  
Shogo gasps, a soft, barely perceptible sound escaping him. Or maybe Shinya imagined it. Imagines all of it. All the small characteristics and actions, and will see and hear and ignore certain things in a frenzied and last ditch attempt to humanize the other man.   
  
The albino lowers his head, fingers curling tighter around Shinya’s own. It was such an innocent gesture, a request almost. So unlike all the blood and sins that stained him down to the bone, past that angelic facade.   
  
Shiny felt his chest squeeze a little tighter as he thought about that and felt a bitter taste in his mouth. This wasn’t right, something had gone very, awfully wrong. Somewhere, somehow, they two of them had been cheated.  
  
Shogo is silent for several long moments, only the soft movement of his fingers brushing over Shinya’s giving up that he was even awake. Shinya slowly realizes that Shogo isn’t planning on saying anything more, he’s said his part of the argument. The same part he’s had for years in this stupid twist of fate that they’d become ensnared in.  
  
It wasn’t fair. For Shinya to keep playing the card he did when the two of them got like this. But he’d run out of other arguments, the bitter resentment he’d once felt at Shogo now ebbing into a hollow, numb sort of pain. He didn’t like stirring up the past anymore, didn’t like the fresh waves of guilt and sour sting of grief. He’d instead begun practicing on forgetting everything from his past life. And it was easy to forget. Easy than it should be to imagine that everything that had happened- everything Shogo had done- hadn’t really ever happened at all.  
  
Shinya bit it all back and instead threaded their fingers together until their palms were laid flat to each other. Shogo’s hand was cold, like it always was, and somehow that always provided a strange sense of comfort to Shinya. These small little things that put cracks in his perfect armor. Shogo was always cold it seemed. His skin as cool as the marble it resembled.  
  
He brought their hands to his lips and brushed them over Shogo’s knuckles. He wasn’t sure what- or who- the gesture was for. If it was for comfort or an apology or a sorrowful reminder.   
  
Shogo made another soft noise but he remained where he was. A soft choked sound as things continued to fall apart around them.  
  
“You know this.” Shinya told him quietly, in a voice that could’ve been considered gentle if it were anybody else. Or perhaps if it were in any other lifetime but this one.  
  
Shogo remained silent. He was almost timid like this. Or demure at the very least. He was good at that; at ducking behind masks that hid who he really was.   
  
Shinya had learned long ago to not be fooled.  
  
When Shogo leans forward to kiss him, for a brief second Shinya considers pulling away. He doesn’t though, never does. It had been difficult in the beginning to resist and had now become nearly unthinkable.   
  
So Shinya lets Shogo brush their lips together, lets the other man pull himself closer to Shinya. He lets Shogo tighten his grip on his hand into an almost bruising hold, as if he was scared Shinya would somehow slip away and never come back.  
  
“I love you.” Shogo suddenly says again, this time almost as a whisper. Shinya could hear things laced in his tone, feelings and nuances that sliced into him with a vicious cruelty and once again he had to forcibly remind himself just why things had to be this way.    
  
Shinya opens his mouth to respond but is swiftly cut off again as Shogo continues in that same desolate tone, “You can love a monster you know.” He murmured, leaning forward to brush their lips together again. “And it’s not all that impossible for the monster to love you back.”  
  
“That doesn’t change its character.” Shinya whispered back, running a finger over Shogo’s jaw. Pale lashes flicker at him. “Or what they’ve done.”  
  
Shogo makes another sound and abruptly makes a move to pull away. Shinya quickly snatches at his wrists, effectively keeping him here on the bed at his side. They sit there in silence, Shogo tensed and his hands twitching under Shinya’s own.   
  
Finally, “You cannot protect yourself from sadness,” Shogo quoted suddenly, softly.“without protecting yourself from happiness.”  
  
“Stop that!” Shinya snaps, sitting up quickly and keeping Shogo pinned down against the bed. “Stop that.”  
  
Shogo stares at him blankly, golden eyes pale before he turns his head to stare off to the side.   
  
Shinya grits his teeth, resisting the urge to shake the other man. He was so childish. His arguments were repetitive and he was terribly stubborn. He’d gotten it into his head that he was right about something that couldn’t possibly be sorted into such black and white thinking.  
  
He forces himself to calm down, breathing heavily through his nose as he carefully loosens his grip on Shogo. Fighting never led to anything but a bitter taste and aching, bloody limbs. They would tear each other apart every time without a second thought, only stopping afterwards to lament what they’d brought upon themselves.   
  
It was a vicious, abusive cycle.  
  
Shinya wondered why he stayed sometimes, why either of them stayed.  
  
There were no shackles (anymore), there was no misplaced loyalty that one had in the other. There weren’t any rules out here, so far away from the only place they’d ever known. There was nothing keeping them bound here, to each other.  
  
Maybe in another life they would’ve been happy, Shinya thinks to himself near constantly. Maybe in another life they would’ve fallen in love the right way; not in a twisted, codependent excuse for a relationship.  
  
“If they’re not your words don’t say them.” Shinya said. And those were words that he’d said before, repeated sometimes it felt like endlessly. “You lose yourself too easily.”  
  
Shogo doesn’t respond. He never does. He keeps his head turned and face blank. There’s a slight tick in his jaw, barely perceptible. Something always gives him away.  
  
Shinya swallows, the thick, cloudy feeling in his throat nearly suffocating him. “I’m not doing this to punish you.” He says, and he can hear the desperation curling into his own words. He shouldn’t even have to be doing this. Not when it’s so clear that the two of them were fated to each other, whether it be for the better or for the worse.  
  
“Then why are you?”  
  
Shogo had turned back to look at him. His face was so blank, a perfectly crafted mask from years and years of pretending to be a normal part of the rest of the world when he was anything but.   
  
Shinya ached, but he didn’t know who it was for. There was too much pain between the two of them, too much history. There were too many whose blood had spilled for the two of them to be here together and it was a terrible, sickening thing that they should ever be happy when there were so many out there who demanded justice.  
  
So he continued doing what he’d always done.  
  
Shinya released his grip on one of Shogo’s wrists, sure to keep the other one locked in a vice grip lest he try and bolt away for good. He trailed his now free hand to cup under Shogo’s jaw, the smooth skin there nearly silken against his fingers.   
  
Shinya continued to be cruel.  
  
Shogo exhaled shakily and closed his eyes. His eyes always betrayed him. They were too open, too wide to keep his intentions and thoughts hidden away.  
  
(Sometimes Shinya liked to think that in another life, there were things in those eyes other than cynicism and cold malice.)  
  
“I’m not doing this to punish you.” Shinya says again. Even if he can no longer tell if he even believes the words himself.   
  
“Then don’t do it.” Shogo breathes and turns to nuzzle into Shinya’s palm. “You don’t always have to do the noble thing.”  
  
“No,” Shinya agrees, “but I do have to do the right thing.”  
  
Shogo is quiet. “Even when the rest of the world doesn’t?”   
  
“Especially then.”  
  
Shogo opens his eyes then to look at him. His eyes are flicking over Shinya’s face, trying to read something, anything that would give him away.  
  
Shinya pauses and leans down to brush his lips over Shogo’s in a way that could almost be considered chaste. “You know that I can’t forget about them.” He murmurs against Shogo’s mouth.  
  
Shogo inhales sharply, his jaw working as he again turns his face away from Shinya. He doesn’t try to break away though, knows that that wouldn’t resolve this. He continues to lie beneath Shinya like a broken doll, the fight gone from him.   
  
“I know.” Shogo said after a moment. “I know that.” He repeats, this time more to himself than to Shinya.   
  
Shinya kisses him again, lingering this time. He slides his hand up from Shogo’s jaw and into his hair. It’s soft, slipping through his fingers as he meticulously winds the strands around his knuckles. Shogo sighs against his mouth and goes pliant against him, his body no longer tensed to flee.  
  
Shinya slides his tongue over Shogo’s lips. Shogo shakily sighs but opens up without hesitation, bringing his free hand up to run lightly along Shinya’s jaw, his nails scraping just so over the skin. Shinya huffs and presses closer to lick into his mouth, nip at his lips, suck at them until they’re bruised red and swollen and whatever it is that’s making Shogo act so terribly unconventional melt out of thought into the pile of things that they’ve silently agreed to never discuss.  
  
Shogo makes a soft noise amidst his ministrations, as vocal of a partner as he is, and Shinya can feel his body begin to twist beneath his own as he tries to regain control over the situation between them. There is heat now between them, bodies moving slick against and Shogo’s cold skin quickly becoming feverish under his touch. Shinya was sure that if he pulled away to look that the pale skin would almost certainly be flushed a lovely pink.  
  
Shinya releases his grip on Shogo’s wrist then and instead lets his hand press into the mattress near the other man’s head, effectively caging him while no longer pinning him. It sinks into the soft foam below, springs groaning weakly in protest at the disturbance.

“This isn’t how things are supposed to be.” He hears himself say, voice breathless and desperate with the last few shreds of his self control. “I don’t want this.”

He sees something almost akin to sadness flicker in those golden eyes, there for a heartbeat and gone in an instant. Maybe it had never even existed, a shred of fantasy Shinya imagined to make Shogo more human.

“That’s a pity.” Shogo sighs, and no, you can’t imagine that hollow tone lacing through his words. “We’d make a wonderful team you know, together or apart.”

He was tragically beautiful in the way cast off angels were always depicted. The empty eyes and bruised lips. None of it was fair.

Shinya feels that tight constriction in his throat; the suffocating, pressing feeling that he’s made some terrible mistake. “I know that.” He says mechanically. Of course he knew. There wasn’t any doubt that the two of them could accomplish great things.

Shogo smiled, reaching up to loop an arm around Shinya’s neck and pull them closer together. “Of course you do.” He murmured against Shinya’s lips before sealing their mouths together once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maripoja @ tumblr


	12. xii

Shinya wakes up tired and groggy and entirely certain that he’s floating on air.

There are noises in the background, the telltale sounds of faint movement in soft voices and muffled footsteps, but it’s like he has cotton stuck in his ears. As a few moments tick by he finally opens his eyes to lethargically blink up at the ceiling, trying to adjust to the sudden florescent glare of the white lights overhead. He feels so light and content, like he’s lying on a cloud that’s slowly floating away. Except he isn’t actually floating. Or moving at all really, he’s on a bed. Lying down. He thinks.

“Shinya,” a voice murmurs, “it’s time to wake up.” Woah, wow.. that voice is nice. Soft and clear and perfectly pleasant like the dulcet tones of swaying chimes. Shinya blinks again and turns to his left towards the voice and woah— the face attached to that voice is every bit as nice. Pale skin, and golden eyes with a face shaped like a valentine and framed by silvery hair. An angel, he thinks in amazement. Wow.

“Are you with me, Shinya?” The man asks, a hint of a smile on his face as his eyebrows quirk up in amusement. Shinya stares at him in response, awe trapping any sort of answer he might have had in his throat. God, what he would give to see this beautiful person laughing. He can only not in reply, too dazed by his cloudy thoughts and the pretty face in front of him.

“How are you feeling?”

Shinya can just feel the grin spread across his face, “I feel fine, now.”

The man hums, “That’s good.” He says, his expression softening a little as he reaches forward to place a slender hand against the side of Shinya’s neck. His hand is so soft and smooth and cool against his burning skin and wow geez, Shinya would really like it if this guy never stopped touching him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He hears himself blurt, and he can’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed because it’s the truth.

The man pauses, raising a thin eyebrow before chucking softly and— ohh fuck— Shinya’s pretty sure that he’s in heaven at this point, regular people just aren’t this perfect. “Well, that’s a nice surprise.” The stranger comments, pleased. “They’ve certainly drugged you up, haven’t they?”

“What’s your name?” Shinya asks, ignoring whatever that means because he really, really, really needs a name to put to this pretty face and pretty voice and pretty everything.

A frown immediately crosses the man’s face, his gaze sharpening into concerned as his eyes trail over Shinya’s face, a slight note of panic reflecting in golden eyes. His head tilts and Shinya just watches as silky strands of hair slide off of a slender shoulder. He wants to touch it. It looks soft. “You don’t know who I am?”

“No… but I’d sure like to.” Shinya replies forwardly, a little upset with himself for making the other man unhappy. He wants that stunning smile back.

“I had a feeling that you wouldn’t quite be yourself, but I certainly didn’t think that you’d forget who I was..” The man murmurs, more to himself than to Shinya. “You’ve just had a kidney removed, Shinya. You’re donating it. Do you remember that?”

Not really, but Shinya supposed that it made sense. That would certainly explain the overwhelmingly numb feeling accompanied with the sudden urge to test and see if he’s as weightless as he feels. He instinctively reached a hand up to paw at his abdomen, but the other man quickly grabs him by the wrist before he can. “Ah no. None of that.”

Shinya stares at the long fingers curled around his wrist before snapping his gaze up to meet those golden eyes. “Can you please tell me your name?” Shinya asks again, a little desperately this time. He doesn’t care much about his organs at the moment, they can take all of them out for all he cares. Although wait; he isn’t sure that he could make it to a date with this man if all his organs are removed. Okay, yeah. He’d like to keep the rest of his insides.

The man watches him for a moment before a soft smile curves his lips and he laughs quietly. Shinya is just happy to see the smile back on his face. “I’m Shogo.”

Wow. Beautiful. Perfect. What a pretty name for a pretty face.

Shogo laughs even harder, “Well thank you.” He manages through his laughter, and Shinya realizes a little too late that he’s said that all out loud. No point in holding back now, he supposes.“I know a place with really good burgers.” Shinya continues, strangely confident. “We should go sometime. I could take you.” There was no way in hell he was going to let this stunning man walk away without at least trying to ask him out.

Shogo blinks slowly, confusion dawning on his face before he burst into laughter again, the confusion turning to disbelief. “I— are you trying to ask me out on a date?”

“Yeah, definitely. Are you a model or something? You’re so gorgeous, this is completely unreal.” He can’t stop rambling it seems, the words spilling out as they pop into his head but he can’t bring himself to care. He feels so light, so pleasant. “Oh my, this is fantastic.” Shogo murmurs, muffling his laughter with his hand. Shinya’s own hand twitches, he wants nothing more than to pull that cover away to see Shogo’s smile. Shogo definitely shouldn’t cover that smile. “Actually, sorry. I have a fiancé.” Shogo says, catching Shinya's attention immediately as he holds up a pale hand to showcase the silver band around his finger.

Shinya visibly deflates, disappointment coursing into him like a tidal wave. It feels as though the wind has been knocked out of him. Damn. He should’ve guessed someone like Shogo would already be taken. “Oh, I see.”

“But seeing as how you’re my fiancé, I suppose a date could be arranged.”  
  
Shinya’s jaw drops, gray eyes going wide as he whips his head up to stare at Shogo in absolute astonishment. This can’t be real, he has to be dreaming and Shogo has to be some beautiful being conjured up by his over-inventive imagination. “What?” He responds blankly, caught somewhere between overwhelming happiness and the stark disbelief that this will all end in a swift second as he wakes from whatever dream this is. “You’re _my_ fiancé.” He says quietly, trying the words out and biting back the bubble of happiness that curled up in his chest.

Shogo smiles, lips stretching over white teeth and amber eyes bright with amusement. He strokes his fingers through Shinya’s dark hair and Shinya leans easily into the touch, relishing in the feeling of Shogo’s hands on him. Shogo hums happily, “You proposed six months ago.”

“And you said yes?”

Shogo snorts softly, smile growing wider. “I did.”

“To me?”

“That seems to be the case.”

“Woah.” Shinya closes his eyes and slides a hand down his face, movements sluggish. “Okay. Woah.” His limbs feel so heavy. He really can’t believe this. “You’re gorgeous.” He says aloud, realizing as the words left his lips that whoops, he hadn’t meant to actually voice that thought but Shogo was already gracing him with that soft laugh again.“You’re not so bad either, Shinya.” Shogo informs him, amusement and mischief flickering in his eyes, and Shinya feels like he might actually just float away from happiness.

He suddenly freezes. “Wait.. have we kissed yet? Do we— you know… —uh?”

Shogo’s eyes go wide in shock and bursts into laughter, burying his face in his hands as his thin shoulders shake with every sound. “Ah no, this is unbelievable! I wish I were recording this.”

Shinya’s not really sure what he’d talking about, but he patiently waits for an answer, because, shit— someone like Shogo? With him?

Shogo eventually calms to an absolutely beautiful smile, leaning forward to take Shinya’s face in his hands and brush their lips together in a soft, perfect kiss. Shinya is too stunned by the action, the softness of Shogo’s lips, the scent of his lip balm, to do much of anything in response. “We do.” Shogo murmurs quietly, before a smirk twitches at his lips and his eyes glint. “Rather frequently, I might add. You have quite the appetite.”

“Shit.” Shinya breaths, heart racing in his chest as Shogo slowly leans back, hands still holding Shinya’s face and a thumb softly running along the line of his jaw. He almost croons, eyelids drooping a bit as everything begins to feel increasingly heavy. “Wow, I hit the jackpot.”  
  
“You’re being very endearing.” Shogo murmurs fondly, biting at his lip to hold back more laughter as the smirk grows a little. Shinya really wants to know what he must’ve done in a previous life to deserve this man.

“How long have we been together?”

Shogo takes his hand and laces their fingers in a soft, careful movement and Shinya kind of wants to cry because their hands fit together perfectly, like the long-lost separated pieces of a puzzle. “Five years in September.” Shogo informs him, and he’s back to being shocked.

“Fuck.” Shinya blurts out, completely dazed. All of this is making his head spin and he feels like he could fall right back into sleep any minute. “Am I good to you?” He asks suddenly, heart racing and brows drawing together. “Do you like me?” He really hopes he isn’t a crappy fiancé. Shogo is already too good for him, too good for this world. How can he not remember proposing to this ethereal being?

He sees Shogo’s teasing expression dissolve, the smirk dropping and being replaced with a soft, genuine smile. “You’re perfect.” He says quietly, “Absolutely perfect.” And at that Shinya feels his heart rate spike and a pleased smile grow on his face even as his head begins to spin, his vision going a little blurry. He’s so tired but he wants to keep staring at Shogo’s lovely smile and the glint of amusement in his eyes. “And I’m quite fond of you.”

Shogo leans forward to brush his lips on Shinya’s temple in a gentle gesture, “Now go back to sleep,” He murmurs, golden eyes soft. “and trust me, I’ll be sure tell you all about this when you wake up again.”

Shogo’s lips are warm and comforting and Shinya is already so sleepy, so he doesn’t fight it and he lets his eyes fall closed with the sound of Shogo’s soft humming lulling him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heheh,, inspired by this
> 
>  
> 
> maripoja @ tumblr


	13. xiii

“Don’t forget me.”

Shogo murmurs into Shinya’s neck, the words escaping him in a rush of hot air against fair skin. Shinya sighs, a deep, low exhale in his chest that Shogo feels as well as hears.

He was nearly asleep, Shogo could tell in the sluggish reaction time to the words and the slow way that Shinya turns to brush his lips against the Shogo’s forehead.

It makes his heart ache in a way he hadn’t known was possible until he’d met this man, and his throat knot itself in a tight kind of fear that felt like he was drowning under the waves and under the sea and under thousands upon thousands of pounds of pressure.

“‘S impossible.” Shinya whispers against Shogo’s skin. “I’m in love with you, you know.”

Shogo lifts his head and presses his lips against Shinya’s. “Promise me?” He whispers back.

Shinya raises a hand to cup at Shogo’s jaw, pressing their mouths more firmly together. “God, I could never lie to you.” Shinya says, desperation lacing through his words as he kissed Shogo again and again until Shogo’s head spun and his breathing was heavy. “I promise you.” He whispered, fingers threading tightly into Shogo’s hair,

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maripoja @ tumblr


	14. xiv

“It doesn’t look like it’s going to be letting up anytime soon.” A voice rang out over the steady, rhythmic pounding of rain hitting pavement.

Shinya startled from his place on the bench, immediately turning towards the source of the voice only to see a tall, slim figure wrapped tightly in a pale, soaking raincoat. He hadn’t even heard them approach, equal parts engrossed in the novel he’d been lent by Masaoka earlier that day and comfortably numbed by the music of the rain.

“Sorry?” He heard himself say, cringing internally even as he said it. Eloquence didn’t come easy for him, unfortunately, least of all when approached by strangers in the middle of a monsoon. He considered trying to cut the conversation off there, going back to his book and steadily ignoring the other man but there was a strange sort of buzzing at the base of his skull telling him to do otherwise.

His _daimon_? Fate? Simple intuition?

The stranger laughed at that, keeping their distance on the other side of the covered bus station. His face was obscured by a thick scarf and Shinya couldn’t help but note the oddly muffled quality that it lent to the otherwise smooth voice. “The rain.” He repeated, and Shinya could hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh. I— Yeah. Looks that way.”

His companion laughs again, softer this time and Shinya watches the way those thin shoulders shake. _He’ll catch a cold_ , he found himself thinking, _He’s not dressed properly for this weather._

“I’ve always found the rain to be incredibly melancholy.” The man sighs. Shinya believes it; he hears a thousand things in that tone as they speak; loss, solitude, hopelessness, desolation… He feels them all in his bones like a deeply ingrained awareness. It was the familiarity of it though, that made his chest ache and his head spin.

“Why is that?” He asked, genuine curiosity in his words.

They sigh again and Shinya watches them tilt their head up towards the sky, sees the reveal of a profile that he’s seen every night in his dreams since he was reborn into this life and in every mirror he’s turned to.

“Because it falls.” He says simply. “It exists in a few precious seconds of free-fall before it hits the ground to disappear forever. It washes away memories and legacies here on the ground as it goes, and nobody ever remembers quite right what’s been erased.” He laughs at that, a joke that only he really seems to understand. “There’s something terribly sad about that, I think.”

Shinya watches him. Watches the flicker of his lashes and the slope of his nose and the curve of his mouth and he wonders. “I can understand that.” He says, because he can. But he’s wondering now and he can’t stop himself from _trying_ because he know he’d regret it for the rest of this life and the next if he doesn’t. “But haven’t you ever heard of the water cycle?”

The man bursts into laughter— real laughter— at that and Shinya finds himself smiling as he continues with his point, “It all comes back. Lives again for those few seconds and then again and again. And maybe it’ll wipe something away once, but maybe the next time it’ll tend to a plant or help somebody to live another day. Nothing is absolute as I’ve come to learn.”

His companion hums at that, seemingly pleased with the answer. He’s still smiling and Shinya readies himself to say something else _anything else_ to keep that smile when the man turns to him with bright golden eyes that Shinya definitely _remembers_ and says,   
  
“Do you remember me?”

The heart stops beating in his chest for a long moment. A strange feeling, like the tightening of a cord or a knot suddenly loops itself in his throat and _pulls_ and for a moment Shinya can’t breathe. But those eyes he’s been searching in the entirety of this life are watching him with a glinting kind of hopefamiliarity _promise_ and the words are leaving his mouth before he can even register—

“I never forgot you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maripoja @ tumblr


	15. xv

_It really is a strange thing_ , Shogo reflects idly to himself, staring up at the cracked plaster ceiling overhead. _That despite all reason that suggests otherwise, people have come to rely so heavily upon others._  
  
The flat is nearly silent. 

  
Only the constant but quiet hum of the space heater filled the space, Shinya’s soft breathing nearly lost beneath the low sounds.   
  
It was both parts eery and yet somehow cathartic, Shogo muses as he turned his head slightly on the pillow to gaze instead out the window closest to the bed. He had only ever experienced the constant bustle of city life at all hours of the day and night. This new silence was strange. Not unwelcome, but strange.  
  
He wants to get up. Wander around the flat, maybe prepare a mug of tea or begin a new book. He had never been the type to sleep the whole night, attributing his overactive mind to his chronic insomnia.  
  
“How long have you been awake?”  
  
Shogo starts, snapped out of his reverie by the sudden break in the silence. He looks over to Shinya, seeing the dim light in the room being reflected back at him. Short black hair is mussed and tangled, the slight croak to his voice belies the alert appearance the ex-Enforcer is trying to wear.  
  
“Not long.” Shogo lies, letting his eyes slide shut briefly before rolling onto his side.  
  
Shinya has a knowing look, intelligence shining clearly in those dark irises. Shogo feels a vague curl of amusement flicker across his chest as he sees the disbelief flicker across the other’s face. He had learned long ago that there were no secrets from Shinya— that there were no secrets at all between the two of them. Not when reading the the other was as simplistic as reading yourself.  
  
“Hm.”  
  
Shinya makes a noncommittal noise. He tilts his head to the side, eyes roving over Shogo’s face for a real answer. He doesn’t say anything else, just waits.  
  
There are red crease marks on his cheeks from the pillow cover, Shogo notes tiredly, and the tell tale bleary, half-awake look is still in his half lidded eyes. It’s really all terribly endearing and for a brief second Shogo nearly forgets himself. It’s becoming more difficult not to.  
  
 _“In another life I could’ve fallen in love with you.”_  
  
Because Shinya looks at him, really looks, and every time he does Shogo feels as though he’s suffocating. That the broken, shredded pieces of who he was and of who he is now are being ripped out and surrendered to the other man.  
  
Shogo looks away.  
  
 _“But in this one I won’t.”_  
  
“Makishima.”  
  
 _Ah_ , and there it is. Shogo’s breath catches and he feels the brittle walls he’s built around himself crumble in an instant. It’s foolish really, completely ridiculous. The life he’s lived and the things he’s done; none of it means anything anymore. Not here, thousands of miles away from the only place he’s ever known. Not here where there isn’t a single familiar face in sight to remind him of his past or of his crimes. Not here when Shinya is at every turn and corner, his dark eyes taking apart every expression to Shogo’s face and every tremor in his hands.   
  
It’s laughable.  
  
Shogo sighs, and the sound is more shaky than he wanted it to be. His eyes slide shut again and he doesn’t bother trying to keep them open. He’s tired. It’s been too much these past years for him too handle and comprehend and he feel like he’s just breaking apart at the seams. He’s not the same person he was, but he doesn’t know how to be anybody different.  
  
There’s a soft touch on his cheek then, steady and careful. It trails slowly over the pale skin there and sweeps down under his jaw. It’s sure and warm and somehow so comforting and not fair in the slightest sense-  
  
“Shogo.”  
  
He sounds more insistent this time. A slight edge has crept into his voice and Makishima feels the relief in his bones at that. He knows how to respond to situations where the other person is less than pleased, but when they’re lying in bed just a few feet from you with a touch on your face that could be called tender if it were anybody else…  
  
Shogo lets his eyes open under the direction. Gray eyes are staring back at him intently, roving over his face and taking in every crack, every tell, every secret that Shogo tries to keep from him. It’s too too much and Shogo bites back the childish urge to close his eyes and roll over to go to sleep. But that would only make Shinya angry, he knew that much. And despite everything they’d done and been through, he couldn’t help the feeling of dismay whenever Shinya was sore with him.  
  
He was already so far gone.  
  
“What?” He murmurs, finally. His allows his eyes to rove over the look that could’ve been caring, worried even. He fights to keep his face neutral even though every instinct he has is screaming at him to stop trying so hard already. So he keeps an edge to his voice and a steel glint in his eyes and hopes that it’s enough.

It’s not.

Shinya suddenly moves, reaching out to touch at Shogo’s cheek. His hands are always so warm, roughed from years of abuse and remarkably gentle considering the history between the two of them. He doesn’t respond or rise to the bait Shogo’s laid out for him, most likely well aware of the trap that yawns in front of him.

It wasn’t an easy thing to trick Shinya. It wasn’t an easy thing to trick somebody who lived by the very same sets of traps that you yourself had grown comfortable with. 

So they lie there in a charged sort of silence, the rattle of the rust-flaked heater acting as the only buffer between them. 

Shogo could _hear_ his breathing grow ragged under the intense gaze and for a moment he hated that Shinya could do this to him. That Shinya and Shinya alone had this absolute, total control over him and didn’t seem to realize or even care just what kind of power he held. 

Or maybe he did. People weren’t to be trusted. Not when their hearts were able to change so suddenly, so completely. Not when they were able to destroy all pieces of something beautiful for a twisted, greedy sense of self driven pride.

There was something strangely fascinating in that, like the bizarre kind of beauty a Venus flytrap possessed when moving in on potential pray; but the game didn’t prove itself as much fun when you yourself were a player in the game. 

“Stop thinking so much.” Shinya murmured suddenly, shaking Shogo from his musings. Those eyes were still fixed on him, a sad kind of understanding reflected at him. “It’s late.”

“I’m not tired.”

Shinya exhaled slowly at that, swiping his thumb over the high part of Shogo’s cheekbone. “Don’t lie to me.” There was a sort of tiredness in his tone, they’ve exhausted this subject even if they’ve never spoken about it. It was in those silently disappointed glances and reluctant pulling away. Lying was a shield, even if it did no good when raised against Shinya.

Shogo turns his face away from Shinya, trying to escape that gaze. It was bitingly cold outside but Shogo would far rather be out there and away from the other man. He didn’t respond, only made a move to try and put distance between the two of them the best he could in a single bed. 

Shinya’s arm shot out almost immediately and pulled him back to pin him once again under those grey eyes. Shogo made a move to shove him away only to have exhaustion prove a hindrance to his agility, allowing Shinya to easily catch Shogo’s hand in his grip. 

Another standstill. 

“Don’t lie to me.” Shinya repeated, although this time it seemed more like a plea than a command. He slowly began the thread their fingers together, palms sliding against each other like the pieces of a puzzle clicking into place. 

Shogo swallowed around the tightness in his throat, feeling his face grow hot under the scrutiny. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Fairy tales didn’t exist and this world had never been kind enough to grace him with genuine happiness. He’d long ago accepted who— _what_ — he was… this wasn’t fair. For Shinya to dangle acceptance and understanding in front of him like a prize he could somehow obtain. 

It wasn’t a safe thing to let hope in.

When Shinya pressed his lips to Shogo’s knuckles, brushing against the skin feather soft, he almost could almost feel himself falling apart.

“Don’t do that.” He heard himself say. Heard the sharpness in his tone. He wanted this, he wanted it more than anything. But lies were pain wrapped in pretty wrapping and shiny ribbons. They were unboxed quickly and left only disappointment in their wake.

“Why not?”

_Because you don’t really mean this. Because you’ll leave eventually. Because the minute those people you left behind call your name to welcome you back you’ll forget about me in a single instant._

He didn’t answer.

Shinya released his hand to instead slide it up under Shogo’s jaw. Fingers tanged themselves in silvery hair and Shinya’s thumb came to rest just under Shogo’s lower lip. Those eyes never left his. “I know why you lie.” He said softly.

Shogo remained silent. He felt his heart rate pick up in his chest, skin burning under Shinya’s touch. Ridiculous. Ridiculous he was so helpless to this all. That it was so easily to pretend reality and fantasy were one and the same.

“You’re afraid.”

Shogo opened his mouth to speak but Shinya tapped at his lip to softly shush him. “You don’t need to be.”

_Don’t fall for it, everyone lies. Remember that. Remember that._

Shogo watched him draw closer, stopped watching as he let his eyes slide shut, listened to the words being whispered against his lips before having them sealed into place in a promise softer than spring rain.  

“I couldn’t possibly replace you after all.” 

But sometimes they told the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maripoja @ tumblr


End file.
